


The Lion Camp of the Zelandonii

by Kittenshift17



Category: Earth's Children - Jean M. Auel
Genre: Disregards The Land of Painted Caves, F/M, Hate-Crimes, Racism, Scenes of a sexual nature - Freeform, Sexism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3966805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenshift17/pseuds/Kittenshift17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayla and Jondalar are living happily with the Zelandonii with their three children, the horses and Wolf. But the lives of those they touched on their journey come back to them when a group of travellers arrive at the Summer Meeting alongside the Lanzadonii. Ayla never thought she would see Danug and Latie or Darvolo, Doban and Madenia again. She never thought she'd see Tholie and Markeno and their children again in her life. She especially isn't expecting to ever lay eyes on the son she left behind so long ago, but even Durc is among those who have journeyed to spend their lives with Ayla and Jondalar.</p><p>Disregards all of Painted Caves and has a far more fitting end to the Earth's Children series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story disregards all of the 6th book in the series and picks up not long after the end of Shelters of Stone. Ayla does not agree to become an Acolyte of the Zeldonia and none of the other stupid things Jean wrote in the 6th book come to pass. No Jondalar cheating. Not Ayla and Laramar. No Jondalar taking Tremeda and her kids as a 2nd woman. No tedious and boring descriptions of so many silly painted caves. 
> 
> In this story Durc, Latie, Danug, Tholie, Markeno, Darvolo, Shamie, Tarnego, Madenia and Doban have all travlled to the land of the Zelnadonii to find Ayla and Jondalar and they mean to stay.

# Chapter 1

Ayla returned to her dwelling for the evening and set Jonayla down on the floor to play with Wolf. The toddler was nearing two years of age now and she immediately crawled over to the massive carnivore who was her playmate and babysitter, giggling as she cuddled him while he licked her face.

“Ayla?” Jondalar called as he strode into the dwelling some time later while Ayla was preparing their evening meal. Ayla looked up at smiled at her handsome mate, pleased to see him. She hadn’t seen him since early that morning after they had shared Pleasures. He had taken Matagan and they had both spent the whole day at Down River, working the stone, as was their shared passion. Ayla herself had been busy too that day.

Her training was finally complete. In spite of the constant pressure from Zelandoni, Ayla had resisted the idea of becoming an Acolyte for many moons. In the end she had lost patience with the huge donier and told her she would not become a full blown Zelandoni. When the First pressed her about it, telling her she would never be able to be a recognised healer if she did not complete her training Ayla had lost her temper for the first time in her life. She had requested that the donier call together a meeting of the full zelandonia at the last Summer Meeting. 

Whilst there she had tapped into the powerful force within her that Zelandoi kept trying to tell her was the reason she must join their ranks. Ayla told them all very plainly that their system for zelandonia was foolish and had insisted that a new branch of the Zelandonia be formed, one modelled much more on the Clan way that would allow Ayla to be a recognised Medicine Woman and given a facial tattoo in recognition of the skills she possessed, though she hadn’t really wanted the tattoo. She told them that mixing the world of spirits and the world of healing was not necessary for her to practice medicine and so she would not be training in the spirit world.

Ayla had no interest in delving deeper into the spirit world. She had enjoyed learning the counting words and the songs of the Zelandonii people, and she’d delighted at the cave paintings she’d been shown, such as the ones Jonokol was so skilled at bringing to life. She did not however, like dipping into the spirit world. She was content to provide healing to those who needed it, and to offer her opinion on some matters the Zelandonia discussed, but she would not return to the world of the spirits. She preferred being a mother to Jonayla and Wolf, a mate to Jondalar, and a companion to Whinney, Racer and Grey. She was happy to simply be a woman of the Zelandonii. Besides, it was for the best. She had no time for Acolyte training. Not with another baby on the way.

It had taken a long time to convince all of the zelandonia, but after living with the Zelandonii people for many years all had come to the conclusion that Ayla was a skilled and powerful healer. People often came from other caves to see Ayla when something was bothering them, Zelandoni or not. She was renowned for her skills and all who knew her recommended her to loved ones or those suffering ailments, knowing she not only could help them, but that she more than anyone would have the best chance of curing them.

“They finally gave you your tattoo I see,” Jondalar commented as he came close and kissed her lips passionately, letting her know how much he’d missed her, tugging her into his arms and allowing her to lean into his solid strength. Ayla drew comfort at the touch and felt some of her annoyance and frustration of the day slip away, content to be in the arms of her mate, knowing without a doubt that she had made the right choice. All she had ever wanted was to find a mate of her own and to be a good woman, to bear the children of his hearth. She still didn’t know what she had done to deserve as wonderful a man as Jondalar, but the Great Cave Lion spirit had tested them both and found them to be worthy. That was enough for Ayla. 

“Yes,” Ayla replied with a sigh, still smarting over the slightly stinging design high on her left cheek close to the corner of her left eye. Jondalar could tell from her tone that she still wasn’t pleased about the tattoo even if it did mean that from now on she would be instantly recognisable to all Zelandonii people that she was a skilled healer. She had only conceded to it because she had grown tired of having to argue with people she’d not met before when they needed her help and would not accept it, not believing in her skills.

Ayla had designed the pattern for the tattoo herself. It was a simple design, a small straight line with five smaller triangles branching off it in a way that reminded Jondalar of a very small tree. It signified that she was a healer with full knowledge of the healing processes. The others among the zelandonia who knew of Ayla and who were skilled at healing had also agreed to take the mark, and Jondalar knew that just as she always had been, Ayla was the embodiment of new changes to come for his people, many had begun to think on the idea of designing tattoos for themselves to signify their individual skills. It was important, they said, that not only could they be recognised as being Zelandonia but also that their individual skills within the realm of knowledge doniers possessed be plain to see for all. 

Just as Ayla was now recognised for her tattoo as a healer, the doniers had begun designing other markings to signify those who delved into the spirit world and all the many other branches of donier training. Jondalar was pleased his mate had fought so hard against the pressures from his people and from the First to become an Acolyte. He knew that the training was gruelling and difficult and he had dreaded the idea of seeing his mate so infrequently during her training. He preferred to have her home in their dwelling with their daughter and Wolf. Preferred being able to share pleasures with her every night and again every morning before they began the day. 

“Don’t look so put out by it,” Jondalar chuckled at her mildly annoyed expression, “You designed it, after all and it looks rather nice. I had feared it would be bigger than that and that it would take up much more room on your face. But you still look just as beautiful to me Ayla, and now everyone you meet will know at a glance that you are a Medicine Woman. No more having to argue with people before you can heal those in need.”

“I’m trying not to,” Ayla replied, “But I find the whole thing impossibly tedious. Why does it matter so much to your people that I have to have a tattoo on my face before they’ll believe I can heal them? I wish sometimes that the Zelandonii were more like the Clan. There I only had to walk at the front of the group whilst travelling. Everyone else just knew.”

Jondalar smiled at her.

“I know you don’t like it Ayla. But now at least you will be able to heal others without them interfering.”

“I suppose you’re right. You’re people are not trusting enough Jondalar,” Ayla told him.

“They are your people now too Ayla,” Jondalar reminded her, still smiling even as she cuddled close to him again for a moment, pressing her lips to the side of his neck before pulling away and fixing him some of his favourite mint tea.

“Are they?” she asked him as she brought him a cup of tea, “Because I think my people would be much kinder than the Zelandonii people. My people would be accepting of the idea that the Clan are people, not just dumb animals that look like bears. My people would believe a woman when she says she is a Medicine Woman and can help them without needing a silly tattoo on her face first.”

“They are still resisting the idea of accepting the Clan as people and considering trading missions with them then?” Jondalar asked her sympathetically as he sat down with his tea before scooping up the blonde toddler that came barrelling towards him on wobbly legs, “Hello my sweet daughter.”

Jonayla giggled with delight, making Ayla smile temporarily as the little girl wiggled her way onto her father’s lap, snuggling into his chest. She almost immediately stuck her thumb into her mouth and closed her eyes, preferring to fall asleep against Jondalar or Ayla more than she liked sleeping anywhere else.

“It makes me angry sometimes Jondalar,” Ayla told him, “Most are willing to accept the idea and open to it. There are just a few who are resisting but they are particularly vocal and rude. I’m sorry for being so grumpy about it.”

“It’s ok Ayla. They have been irritating me too. Joharran is considering that we should dispense with the idea of discussing it further and just begin acting on the idea. Willamar is talking of getting together a trading group in the hopes of making contact.”

Ayla smiled as she looked around at her little family.

“I wold like that, perhaps sometime in the spring. They will all be holed up in their caves out of the snow and they would not take kindly to a group of noisy Others turning up at their cave. Where is Matagan?” she asked after Jondalar’s apprentice and the young man who shared their dwelling.

“He’s sharing the evening meal with Torala. They seem to be getting very close. I wonder if they will join at the Summer mating ceremony at the next Meeting,” Jondalar grinned, thinking fondly of his apprentice who seemed so taken with the dark-haired beauty of Torala. She was a young woman who had come from the Twenty-First Cave, far to the north. They had met at last year’s Summer Meeting and she had requested of Joharran that she be allowed to join the Ninth Cave to learn more about basket weaving from Proleva.

“Perhaps. They are both young still and enjoying each other’s company,” Ayla smiled at Jondalar as she came over and took his hand, sitting beside him at the table in their dwelling, “Jondalar?”

“What is it Ayla?” Jondalar asked, frowning worriedly when he saw the way Ayla looked uncertain about something.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she began softly. Looking down at her tea-cup and then at their blonde daughter who had cuddled up against Jondalar’s chest.

“What is it?” Jondalar asked, feeling a sense of dread at the tone in her voice. Ayla didn’t respond right away, instead she reached over and took Jonayla from him. Safe in her father’s arms the little girl had fallen asleep. Ayla carried her over to her sleeping platform depositing her with a soft kiss to her daughter’s cheek before turning back to her mate.

“Ayla, you’re making me worry. What is it? What’s wrong?” Jondalar said, feeling his heart start to race. What if she told him something terrible, like that she didn’t want to be his mate anymore?

“No don’t get up,” she cautioned him as he made to stand, “You might need to be sitting down for this.”

“Oh Doni!” Jondalar breathed, panicking now.

“Are you happy here with us Jondalar?” Ayla asked him softly.

“Of course I am!” Jondalar exclaimed, “I’ve never been happier than I have since I found you Ayla. I thought I’d never find a woman to love. Especially one willing to travel so far and leave so many friends behind. Are you not happy with me?”

“Oh Jondalar of course I am,” Ayla told him, smiling her love at him and earning herself a smile in return, “I just wanted to make sure you were happy; that you still love Jonayla and me; that you are happy living here with us.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jondalar asked her, a tiny frown wrinkling his brow, “What is it that you need to tell me?”

Ayla, who had been looking down at her lap while she asked him, looked up slowly. Jondalar felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest until that wonderful smile of hers bloomed upon her beautiful face. It lit up her whole face, shining from within and catching his breath in his chest. She was so beautiful. Jondalar didn’t know why the Mother has granted him this wonderful woman, but he hoped he would always be with her.

“Jondalar… I’m pregnant again,” Ayla told him in a whisper, smiling at him hopefully.

Stunned, Jondalar stared at her for several minutes. 

“You’re pregnant again?” he whispered slowly, “We’re going to have another baby born to my hearth?”

Ayla nodded, happy tears leaking from her eyes.

“Are you sure?” Jondalar whispered, looked elated.

“This is the third moon in a row that my moon time has not flowed…. That is usually a good sign, and I’ve started feeling nauseas some mornings lately.”

“Have you told anyone else yet?” Jondalar asked excitedly. Ayla shook her head.

“I wanted you to be the first to know, and to make sure that I really am pregnant first.”

“Can we tell people now?” he asked, practically vibrating with happiness in his seat.

“Are you happy Jondalar?” Ayla asked him, “I know you were thinking that it would be fun to visit with Dalanar after the Summer Meeting this year now that Jonayla is old enough.”

“Happy?” Jondalar exclaimed, “Woman I’m the happiest man alive!”

Ayla cried some more when Jondalar pulled her to her feet, crushing her in a tight hug as he kissed her lips passionately.

“Am I interrupting?” Folara’s voiced asked from the door.

Jondalar and Ayla broke apart, Jondalar smiling like a fool.

“Not at all. Ayla’s just given me some good news,” Jondalar said, stepping around behind Ayla and cuddling her back against him.

“About you finishing your training and being given your tattoo? It’s wonderful Ayla,” Folara said, smiling at them and inviting herself in.

“Well that too,” Jondalar grinned at his little sister knowingly before he began to rub circles against Ayla’s flat stomach indicatively.

“What is it?” Folara asked, a smiled beginning to form as she hoped he meant what she thought he meant.

“I’m pregnant again,” Ayla told her with a bright smile, “I’ve just told Jondalar.”

“Oh Ayla that’s wonderful!” Folara said, rushing over to hug her, “Congratulations! Oh I just knew that one day my brother would come back and have a hearth overflowing with children.”

“Overflowing?” Jondalar laughed, “So far we only have Jonayla.”

“And Wolf. But that will change. Ayla is going to have lots of babies and since you both love each other so much they will all be to your hearth. Oh I’m going to be an Aunt again. This is wonderful! Come on, let’s go and tell Mother and Willamar and the others. I’ll get Jonayla. Come on hurry!” Folara insisted, scooping up the sleeping girl as Wolf bounded about excitedly. Ayla laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

# Chapter 2

**_Four Years Later_ **

“Ayla! Jondalar!” a voice called to the couple brushing the horses by the river, “Come quickly!”

“What’s wrong?” Ayla called back to the unknown man, wondering how he knew them and what he was shouting about. And how he’d found them. She and Jondalar had left the Summer Meeting to travel upriver on the horses, allowing themselves some time away from the crowds. They had shared pleasures a little while ago and were relaxing, simply enjoying the time together and grooming Whinney, Racer and Grey. 

“You have to come quickly. It’s Dalanar!”

“Dalanar’s here?” Jondalar smiled excitedly. They were at this year’s Summer Meeting site at Old Valley, the home of the Fifth Cave of the Zelandonii. Their children Jonayla, Thonnolan and Jetamalie were all back at the camp with Marthona, who had volunteered to watch the children while Ayla and Jondalar gave the horses some exercise and had a little time to themselves knowing that Ayla needed to be alone after so long spent with people in close quarters.

“Hurry! Dalanar needs your help, Ayla!” the man called out again, rushing closer as Ayla and Jondalar leapt aboard the horses. They galloped over to the man and Ayla offered him her arm.

“Will you show us the way?” she asked even as the man fearlessly took her arm and swung aboard Whinney behind Ayla.

“What is wrong with Dalanar? Why does he need Ayla’s help?” Jondalar asked as the man pointed them in the direction of the arrivals.

“I was sent ahead to find you because I am the fastest runner. Jerika insisted it must be you to come and help Dalanar. We do not know what is wrong with him.” The man told them “I am Mantingar of the Lanzadonii, by the way. I ran first to the Meeting place but a woman named Marthona sent me for you here.”

Jondalar felt a fist of fear clutch at his insides for the man of his hearth. The man Ayla maintained was his father just the way she believed Jondalar was the father of her children.

“What is wrong with Dalanar?” Ayla questioned as they rode at a swift trot.

“He developed a cough during the winter,” Mantingar began, “When he exerts too much energy his cough grows worse, that is why we are so late this year, we’ve had to travel slower.”

“Has something happened to make him worse?” Jondalar called from Racer’s back, listening avidly.

“When I left he was clutching his sides and doubled over,” Mantingar told them, “I am no zelandoni.”

Jondalar looked ahead, terrified they would arrive before Ayla would be able to do anything for the man of his hearth and he sighed in mild relief when he saw a throng of people gathered together up ahead on an open field. They all looked to have been travelling to the summer Meeting and were now stopped, gathered together around something. It had to be the Lanzadonii. Jondalar only hoped they would not be too late.

Skidding the horses to a stop both Ayla and Jondalar leapt clear of them, charging into the gathered group to a place where they found Dalanar laid out on his back on the ground. Someone had laid down a ground cover and Jerkia was kneeling by Dalanar holding out a cup of willowbark tea.

“Dalanar what is it? Where does it hurt?” Ayla asked at once, forgetting about greeting anyone, though they had not seen the Lanzadonii in two long years as it was far to come to every Summer Meeting, “Everyone back up and give us some space here. Jerkia, I need you to get some fresh water boiling. Joplaya do you know the plant elcampane? Get some fresh for me as soon as you can please.” 

Jondalar watched helplessly as Ayla took complete control of the situation, her years of experience in healing people kicking in and leaving even the most authorative figures ready and willing to do as she bid without argument. She glanced around at the remaining people all looking upon their fallen leader. If she had been less focused on Dalanar and making sure that the man of Jondalar’s hearth would live, she might’ve noticed the way many of them wore small sly smiles instead of frowns of worry; she might’ve noticed the sluggish way Jerika and Joplaya did her bidding instead of hopping to it in a desperate bid to save their mate and man of hearth.

If she was paying proper attention to the gathered people instead of her supposed patient, she might’ve noticed the hauntingly familiar faces among those of the Lanzadonii that did not belong with that cave. She might’ve noticed faces she had not seen in many long years.

Instead, her brain was already ten steps ahead and running on autopilot as she gave orders while her mind through possible treatments for a cough that had the man doubling over and now lying flat on his back out on the steppes.

“Jondalar, I need you and Danug to build a stretcher, and Echozar, put together a group of people to set up a shelter, we need to get him out of the sun.”

Ayla might not have been paying attention to the faces around her even when she subconsciously recognised them, but Jondalar was and when he heard Ayla use the name ‘Danug’ he did a double take.

Glancing around, he spotted the familiar face of the younger red-haired man and he did a double take at the sight.

“Danug?” Jondalar exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

All around them everyone, including Dalanar, began to chuckle at Jondalar’s surprise. Ayla looked up and quickly realised that there was nothing wrong with Dalanar when he sat up and pulled her down in a hug of greeting, rubbing his cheek against hers before lifting them both to their feet.

“There is nothing wrong with you, is there?” Ayla accused the man when he let her go and they were both got on their feet.

“Not a thing. We just needed to get you and Jondalar out here before we converged on the Summer Meeting. There are some people who’ve come a long way to see you,” Dalanar told them, his voice cheery as he reached for the son of his hearth and pulled the younger man into a hug of greeting, brushing his cheek against his son’s cheerfully.

“Danug?” Jondalar was still blinking at the laughing red haired man, though he grinned as he embraced Dalanar, “Is it really you?”

“It’s me Jondalar. I decided to make a journey,” Danug grinned, moving forward to greet Jondalar formally where he pulled the surprised man into a hug. 

“Danug?” Ayla smiled, “You came all this way to see us?”

“I needed a purpose for my journey,” Danug told her in Mamutoi as he moved to greet her in the Mamutoi style as well, hugging the woman happily. Alya’s smile brightened as she heard the familiar language she had not spoken in many years. She and Jondalar had been with the Zelandonii so long that they very rarely spoke any of the languages they had learned on their journey here.

“It’s so good to see you!” Alya exclaimed, throwing herself into the big man’s arms, noting how much he had grown and how he was now similar in size and stance to Talut, “You’re almost as big a Talut!”

“He and Nezzie and everyone else from the Lion Camp send their love and greetings,” Danug grinned at the comment, pleased to hear it, “There’s something else as well.”

“What is it?” Jondalar asked curiously, smiling at the familiar young man surprised by how pleased he was to see Danug and suddenly reminded of his long and exciting journey. 

“Well, when I set out, it was just me and Latie,” Danug grinned as he began the tale.

“Latie’s here too?” Ayla exclaimed, excited interrupting him in a very Mamutoi show of manners.

“Hi Alya,” a familiar looking young woman said, smiling widely from within the group of people gathered in a circle around them. Latie moved towards Jondalar and Ayla with a grin on her face at the reaction of the surprised couple.

“Latie!” Alya smiled in return, moving forward to greet her in proper Mamutoi fashion, “Look how you’ve grown! All the unmated men at the Summer Meeting will be falling over themselves for your attention.”

“Well they’ll have to get in a line,” another familiar voice announced, this one speaking Sharamudoi.

“Darvolo?” Jondalar exclaimed, moving to greet the young man.

“I told you I’d come on a journey one day Jondalar,” the young Sharamudoi man grinned at the man who’d come so close to being the man of his hearth.

That was when Ayla started to cry tears of happiness at seeing so many of the friends they’d made on the way.

“Oh Ayla, don’t cry,” Latie patted her back comfortingly, “There’s much more that we have to share with you yet.”

“More?” Jondalar asked, “How can there be more to share?”

“Well, you see what happened was,” Danug began, grinning now, “I mentioned to Latie that before we started a Camp of our own, I’d like to go on a journey. Lots of people had been doing it after you came to the Summer Meeting of the Mamutoi, where you had so many exciting stories to tell of your own journey to us. It was Latie who suggested that if we were going to go, we might as well make it a worthwhile journey and suggested we see if we could find you two.”

“The thing is,” Latie said, taking up the tale with a smile, “That the pair of you touched a lot of people’s lives and along the way… Anyway, I remembered the route you told us you had taken to come to us Jondalar, and the route you suggested you’d be taking home. We followed it and we’ve met so many wonderful people, but it seems that everywhere we went, we heard stories of the man and woman travelling with horses and a wolf. When we told them all that we were coming this way to find you, a lot of people thought it was high time they made a journey too.”

“There are more of you?” Ayla asked hopefully, her eyes lighting up.

“Hi Alya,” a familiar voice said and Ayla turned to look at a robust blonde woman who was almost the same age as her. Standing beside her was a young girl of maybe eight or nine years.

“Tholie?” Ayla asked, not entirely sure it was her friend but suspecting it might be.

“It’s me,” Tholie smiled, pleased at being recognised, “And Shamio. Markeno’s here too.”

“It’s so good to see you!” Ayla cried, hugging the woman close and smiling encouragingly at Shamio though the girl clearly didn’t remember her, “I never thought I’d see any of you again. I though you and Markeno would stay with the Sharamudoi.”

“We never did find anyone to cross mate with,” Tholie explained, “And when Danug and Latie and the others arrived, we thought why not make a journey? Shamio and my son, Tarnego were both old enough that they could travel and in a group it was slower going anyway so it wasn’t too hard on them.”

Ayla felt overwhelmed at the sight of so many old friends and as she looked around the gathered group, she could see there were still more people who’d yet to speak up. She greeted Markeno in the Sharamduoi way and smiled encouragingly at the boy of perhaps six years who was standing beside his father, the spitting image of Markeno.

“Madenia?” Ayla asked when she saw another familiar face in the gathered crowd.

“It’s me,” the young woman smiled, so much brighter and happier than the withdrawn girl Ayla remembered from the Ladunai people, “I couldn’t resist coming across the glacier when everyone arrived at our cave. I’ve wanted to go on a journey since you and Jondalar left us, and finally I had people I could travel with. I never did like the idea of going alone.”

“Doban?” Jondalar suddenly asked, staring at a young man who was standing beside Madenia.

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember me,” the young man grinned at them.

“How could we forget?” Jondalar asked greeting him properly, “Just how many of you have made the journey so far simply to see Ayla and I?”

“More than you know,” Dalanar interrupted now with a more serious tone in his voice that the light and happy moment seemed to call for, “Ayla, there’s someone else who has come a very long way to see you. Are you ready to meet him?”

Ayla looked at the man who was so much like her mate intently, wondering why he would intercede now and for just a moment she wondered if Ranec had come with Danug and Latie all the way from the Mamutoi.

“Of course I am,” Ayla said, glancing at Jondalar who looked just as intrigued as she did, “Who is it Dalanar?”

“Someone from a very long time ago. Someone very special to you, Ayla,” Jerika said quietly, her eyes filling even as she held Ayla’s gaze. Ayla felt her heart begin to race in her chest when she saw the stern and unrattlable Jerika beginning to tear up. Who could it possibly be, she wondered.

Ayla held her breath in anticipation as the gathered crowded of dear loved ones slowly parted. Her eyes travelled over the familiar faces of those among the Landzadonii – Dalanar and Jerika and Joplaya and Echozar. She saw too the faces of lost friends she’d never thought to see again. Latie, who was standing close beside Darvalo, their hands brushing together. Danug, grinning and taking up a huge portion of space for his large size and even bigger personality. Madenia and Doban who stood close to one another both smiling gently, Markeno and Tholie and their two children looking on encouragingly. Many more among the Landzadonii that Ayla knew were there as well and she felt smiles dance across her face as she smiled at each of them in greeting, wishing she had the time to go forward and rub her cheek to their in the proper greeting.

There was a sense of anticipation in the air as the group held its breath collectively. Ayla felt Jondalar move up to stand beside her, his fingers intertwining with hers as they waited to see who it was that Dalanar spoke of. When the gathered crowd parted, Ayla felt a frown of confusion wrinkle her brow. 

Standing there in the exposed space was a man of mixed spirits. He had the deep-set brown eyes of the Clan and the heavy brow-ridges too. But he also had a high forehead and stood taller and a little less broad than a man of the clan. Almost as tall as Ayla, in fact. For just a moment, before she blinked rapidly, Alya could swear she saw the familiar nose she remembered to belong to Brun. 

The mixed-spirits man came forward slowly. His legs weren’t as bowed as a regular man of the Clan’s were, his gait easy but wary, as though he was a little nervous.

“Ayla?” he said, and Ayla felt her eyebrows lift in surprise to learn that he could speak, since one was never sure with mixed-spirits people if they would be able to speak or not. As he continued to speak he made the familiar hand signals of the Clan and Ayla felt a prickle of recognition when she caught a few of the abbreviated, one handed signals she recalled from her time in Brun’s Clan.

“I don’t know if you remember me,” he spoke Mamuoti, though like hers did, his accent clipped some of the words strangely, “I’m….”

“Durc?” Ayla breathed, stumbling forward a step, her heart pounding heavily in her chest, her breath caught on a sob of hopefulness, her hand reaching for him without any conscious command from her brain.

Durc nodded, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth and startling Ayla at the unfamiliar expression on a Clan face.

“My son?” she whispered around the lump in her throat, her hand clutching tightly at Jondalar’s even as she made the signals one-handed with the arm extended towards him.

“It’s me, Mama” he said quietly, watching her with a hopeful expression on his face. The expression spoke of far more than any gathered there but Ayla could really understand. Within the clan every gesture and expression was a way for making meaning. While to the gathered group Durc simply looked hopeful, to Ayla his expression conveyed his nervousness at how he would be received by the mother who had been forced to leave him behind; his worry of how her mate and her new people would take to him; his fear that she didn’t want him; his longing to have seen her again and his happiness at being remembered though he’d not seen her since he was just a little boy many years ago.

The familiar word was one Ayla heard out of the mouth of her other three children every day, but there was something about hearing them said with that slight Clan accent that brought Ayla undone. It went against every Clan tradition and custom, but Ayla didn’t care. She burst into tears even as she dropped Jondalar’s hand and flung herself into the arms of her son. The son she’d been forced to give up. The son she thought she’d never see again. The son she sometimes still cried for. The son who had been an ache in her heart for almost ten years.

Jondalar watched his mate fling herself into the arms of her son, and he watched the way Durc hugged Ayla tight, his eyes closing against the feelings overwhelming him. Jondalar knew from the things Ayla had told him that such open displays of affection were unnatural and against custom amongst the Clan, but if Durc cared about any of that, he didn’t show it. Instead he hugged his mother while Ayla cried against his robust shoulder. The feeling that welled up inside Jondalar as he watched them made him realise just how much Ayla missed her son and had ached to see him again.

He heard Jerika sniffle from next to Dalanar and Jondalar glanced around the gathered group wondering how it had come to be that Durc had joined up with all of them and travelled so far. Madenia and Latie were both crying openly and even Tholie had tears in her eyes at the reunion of mother and son. He suspected the rest of the Lanzadonii must have heard the story of Ayla and her son from the travellers and could see that they not only accepted him in spite of being mixed-spirits, but cared about Durc and about Ayla and were openly moved by the display.

Slowly he moved forward until he stood beside the embracing pair, resting his hand gently on Ayla’s back in comfort.

“Will you introduce me to your son, Ayla?” Jondalar asked his mate softly, speaking Mamutoi and resorting to the one-handed signals of the Clan as he spoke to make sure Durc understood him.

“Oh Jondalar!” Ayla sobbed, turning to him. She was still openly crying and she didn’t let go of Durc, “This is Durc, my son. Durc, this is my mate Jondalar of the Zelandonii.”

“Greetings Durc,” Jondalar said and signalled to the son of his mate, “Welcome to the land of the Zelandonii.”

“Greetings Jondalar,” Durc replied, smiling up at him, his intelligent brown eyes watching the tall blonde man and seeing how much the man cared for his mother and how pleased he was to see Durc though they’d never met before.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Ayla blurted to her son, seeming unable to stop herself in an uncharacteristic loss of control.

“Should we continue these conversation when we get to the Summer Meeting?” Dalanar suggested, sensing the coming explanations of how the travellers had all joined together and come so far to see the blonde couple, “We need to get set up and some of us have travelled a very long way to attend this year’s Summer Meeting.”

“Oh, of course,” Ayla said sheepishly, “I’m sorry, we’re holding you all up. It’s just so overwhelming to see all of you again. Oh I haven’t even greeted anyone properly….”  
Jondalar smiled down at his mate and pulled her against his side, kissing the top of her head as she stared at her feet, clearly embarrassed by her outburst of emotion and yet unable to entirely rein in her happiness at seeing so many loved ones again.

“I think it’s entirely understandable that you haven’t Ayla,” Jerkia smiled at her in understanding, “We expected that both of you might be overcome to see some many loved ones again. It’s why we sent for you to have this reunion here away from the prying eyes of the entire Summer Meeting.”

“It was wise of you,” Jondalar said when Ayla kept watching her feet, trying to get her tears under control. She had taken Durc’s hand and was clutching it tightly as though she feared this was all just a dream that she was terrified to wake from. If it bothered Durc that she held his hand like he was still a small boy instead of a grown man of the Clan, he didn’t let on. 

“The Zelandonii have come far in the years since we returned, but there is still some bad feelings amongst some about the Clan, as you know Echozar,” Jondalar continued as the group began to walk towards the Summer Meeting, “I am grateful you sent for us. There are so many wonderful people who have come so far. It would not have done justice to my thankfulness to see you all again had we had the entire Summer Meeting looking on.”

“You think they will object to me?” Durc asked, speaking Mamutoi and signalling one-handed while Ayla still clutched the other one.

“They won’t dare,” Jondalar assured him with a pointed glance at Ayla who had lifted her head, her eyes dancing with determination and fire at the very idea of anyone trying to tell her son he wasn’t welcome with her people.

“Told you not to worry, didn’t I?” Danug asked Durc, grinning at him, also signalling as he spoke, “We’ve told you the story of what Ayla did for our brother, Rydag. She is an amazing woman.”

“That she is,” Dalanar agreed. 

All in the group watched Ayla as she glanced around at all of them, a smile pulling her lips up at the corners. She was so pleased to see them all, and so overwhelmed by the amount of love they all exhibited to have come so far just to see her and Jondalar.

“I don’t know if I can ever express how pleased I am to see you all again,” she said quietly, tears of happiness and gratitude spilling down her face once more, “My heart has ached with everyday I’ve spent without each of you.”

She repeated the sentiment in Zelandonii, Mamutoi, Sharamudoi, S'Armunai and Ladunai, signalling one-handed the entire time as she noticed out the corner of her eye the way that Durc was subtly taking in the pronunciation and inflections of each language as she did so. She covered every language the gathered group there spoke. She wondered as she did so if Tholie had instigated the same kind of language learning games they had used when Ayla had lived with the Sharamudoi to better learn all the languages and so properly understand one another. She hoped so. 

“We’ve missed you too Ayla,” Latie spoke up, “You left a hole in the Lion Camp after you went away and I didn’t think it would ever be filled again. We have come so far and survived so much merely for the chance to be with you again.”

“Not just with the Lion Camp,” Tholie said, “You left a hole with all of us Ayla.”


	3. Chapter 3

# Chapter 3

When the group reached the Camp of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, many came spilling out in greeting and many more stopped short at the sight of so many new faces among the Lanzadonii.

“Mama!” Jonayla shouted in delight to see her mother and the man of her hearth return. The girl was oblivious to the gathered people who had travelled so far to see her parents and as she barrelled towards he parents with her younger brother right behind her and her infant sister in her arms, Ayla smiled at the girl.

Jondalar intercepted the girl, taking Jetamalie from her and propping the toddler on his hip while Jonayla pounced on her mother, jumping right up into Ayla’s arms. Thonnolan climbed his father like a tree while the gathered group chuckled.

“I missed you, Mama!” Jonayla announced, pressing a kiss to Ayla’s cheek in greeting and squeezing her arms tightly around Ayla.

“I missed you too, Jonayla,” Ayla chuckled, having had to let go of Jondalar and Durc to catch the girl and hold her in her arms.

“Who are all these people? I know Dalanar and Jerika and Joplaya and Echozar, but who are the others?” Jonayla asked, always curious about everything and not at all shy about expressing that curiosity.

“They are the people I told you about from the Journey your father and I took, do you think you know their names?” Ayla asked her, propping the girl on her hip and turning her a little so she could see the many gathered people. Most of the group smiled at the little girl who was identical to Ayla in every way but her eyes. She had Jondalar’s mesmerizing eyes, as all of Ayla’s three children with him did.

“That must be Talut,” Jonayla decided, pointing at Danug. Danug grinned despite the mistake, clearly pleased to be mistaken for the man of his hearth.

“That’s Danug of the Maumtoi. But I almost mistook him for Talut too, he’s grown so big. Talut is Danug’s father,” Ayla smiled while Danug began to laugh.

“You’re Tholie and Markeno of the Sharamudoi,” Jonayla said next, pointing at the couple, who looked surprised to be recognised, “The people Mama and Daddy almost cross-mated with, far away on the Great Mother River where you know why she is called the Great Mother.”

“That’s right,” Jondalar praised as the Lanzadonii people began moving away to set up camp beside the Ninth Cave, “Can you guess the rest?”

Jonayla looked around the group for a few moments thinking hard on all the stories her parents had told her.

“If you’re Danug, then you must be Latie,” she decided, pointing at Latie, who smiled encouragingly, looking delighted by Ayla’s children. Thonnolan had by now managed to climb his father until he was perched high on Jondalar’s shoulders, and was looking on with interest. He was only four years, so he was still a little shy and more prone to watching than talking when he didn’t know people. Unlike his older sister, Thonnolan preferred to assess things before barrelling head-long into them.

“That is Latie,” Ayla nodded, leaning over so she could press kisses to the face of her two year old daughter who was giggling and pulling Jondalar’s hair, and then the cheek of her four year old son, who leaned down a bit so Ayla could reach to kiss him while he sat on Jondalar’s shoulders.

“Well if she’s Latie, then you must be Madenia,” Jonayla continued, smiling happily to be getting them all right.

“You told her about me?” Madenia asked, grinning widely to know she’d been well-remembered by Ayla.

“Of course I did. We told her about all of you.”

“You must be Darvolo,” Jonayla wasn’t listening to their conversation, she was too busy puzzling out who everyone was, “And I saw you limping a little bit, so you must be Doban.”

“She’s good at this for a girl who’s never met any of us,” Markeno commented, looking impressed.

“And that leaves you,” Jonayla said turning her blue eyed gaze on Durc where he stood close by to Ayla, looking on with interest to meet his mother’s other children.

“Do you know who he is?” Ayla asked her eldest daughter seriously, beckoning Durc closer.

“You’re my brother,” Jonayla said quietly, “The one Mama cries about. The one she had to leave with the Clan. You’re Durc.”

“I am,” Durc agreed with a nod, noticing the way the younger girl was in the habit of speaking with signals and with words. He hadn’t understood most of what she’d said as she was speaking Zelandonii, but the signals told him the words he didn’t know. He didn’t know how to react to being called brother to the bright and happy blonde girl in his Mama’s hold, though it was true enough.

When Jonayla held her arms out towards him, wriggling towards him in Mama’s hold, Durc glanced at Ayla, unsure what to do. It wasn’t all that customary in the clan for men to hold children, excepting those of their own hearth and usually only within the lines of one’s hearth in the cave, but the girl seemed insistent. When Ayla just watched him, letting him choose what to do, Durc held his arms out and took Jonayla from her, propping the child on his hip the way his mother had done and the way her mat was holding the other, younger girl. She seemed too tall to be so childlike, but Durc had learned many things about the Others and he knew their children took longer to grow and mature than the Clan did.

“You should all set your things up with us,” Ayla invited, taking Jetamalie from Jondalar and leading the gathered travellers towards the camp where she, Jondalar and their children slept.

“We’ll hold off on introductions until everyone is gathered, I think,” Jondalar added, “And perhaps on the stories of your travels here, until everyone can hear them.”

“Just like at Lion Camp,” Latie grinned at Danug who nodded, both of them recalling the tale telling of Jondalar and Ayla when they had first come to the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi.

“It’s so good to see everyone,” Ayla said, depositing Jetamalie on her sleeping fur and clearing room for all the travellers to squeeze into their camp alongside them.

“Are you sure it’s alright for us to all camp here?” Tholie asked, “We don’t want to put you out. And there’s not that much space for so many new people. Especially when you have such young children, Ayla.”

“Oh Tholie,” Ayla sighed, hugging the woman and earning a chuckle, “You don’t know how happy I am to see all of you. I wouldn’t have you anywhere else. All of you must join us. We’ll make the shelter bigger for the Summer Meeting to fit everyone if we have to.”

“Jondalar?” Folara’s voice came from the entryway, “Ayla? What’s going on? Who are all these people?”

“Oh Folara!” Ayla grinned, “Come in, come in, everyone’s just getting settled, help me make some tea, would you? These are our companions from our journey. From the stories. All of them have travelled here to visit us.”

“That’s wonderful!” Folara beamed at her, “I feel like I don’t even need any introductions, I feel as though I know you all.”

“You’ve been telling everyone about all of us?” Tholie asked Ayla curiously, expressing the surprise they all seemed to feel.

“Of course I have,” Ayla told them, “I’ve missed you all so much, and talking about all the times we spent with you helps keep alive the love we have for all of you.”

“Oh Ayla!” Latie said, beginning to sniffle at that, her eyes welling. “We’ve been so worried that we wouldn’t even find you, let alone that we’d have such a warm welcome.”

“Why wouldn’t you have a warm welcome?” Ayla asked, puzzled, “Without all of you, we would have never made it here to the Zelandonii?”

No one mentioned for that moment the fears the group of travellers had shared that they would not find Ayla and Jondalar, that if they did they might not be welcome. None more than Durc had feared seeing Ayla again, wondering if she would remember him. Wondering if he would be welcomed. Wondering if he would have come so far for nothing.

“We scared ourselves around our campfire at night,” Markeno told her, “Worried we’d never find you.”

“Well I’m pleased you did. I’m pleased you have all come so far,” Ayla told them, smiling widely.

“It’s is a very long journey,” Jondalar agreed, “Knowing how far it is, I am all the more pleased you chose to come.”

“We didn’t just come to visit, you know?” Tholie piped up, “We’ve come to stay. If you’ll have us?”

Ayla paused as she was gathering together cups to pour everyone a nice cup of tea, looking up at the gathered group who all wore such hopeful expressions. She glanced at Jondalar, who looked equally surprised by Tholie’s announcement.

“You….” Ayla paused to try and reign in the emotions that threatened to consume her once more, “You all… want to stay? You… you would give up your families; your people; just to stay with me and Jondalar?”

“Do you imagine we came all this way to see you without the intention of doing that? I’m never going to make another journey for days and days over a glacier, Ayla,” Tholie told her, blunt as ever in the way only the Mamutoi could be.

“You all feel this way?” Jondalar asked, “Danug? You and Latie wish to begin your own Camp here? What about Talut? Nezzie? The Mamutoi people?”

“We’ll miss them,” Latie admitted, “I already do. But it’s much too far to go back. At least for a good long while. We’d like to stay. Is that alright?”  
Ayla felt more tears leak from her eyes.

“Of course you can stay!” she announced.

“The Council might have some objections to that Ayla…” Folara interrupted quietly.

“The Council?” Ayla asked blankly, “If the council have such trouble accepting visitors into their midst then… well, then we’ll just have to leave too. We could start our own Camp!”

“It won’t come to that, Ayla,” Jondalar assured her, “Though I do like the idea of a lodge like the Mamutoi Camps.”

“You would leave our cave?”

“As lovely as it is, you know it’s beginning to overflow with the children. I’ve been thinking about trading for the supplies to extend the one we have or to build us a new one,” Jondalar admitted, “Why not extend it into a Camp like the Mamutoi dwell in. They were cosy and warm. Not to mention that having so many dear friends living in close quarters is appealing. After all, we couldn’t fit Durc in the cave we have now. Not with the children too; I know you want to have another baby soon now that Jetamalie is two years. And everyone else would need Caves to live in too. One big lodge would be perfect.”

“What are you saying Jondalar?” Danug asked, “We’re relatively fluent with signs, Mamutoi, Sharamudoi, Ladunai and some S’Armunai but we only know a collection of Zelandonii words we remembered and what little we picked up wintering with the Landzadonii after we crossed the glacier.”

“Oh, we’re being rude, I’m sorry,” Ayla apologise in Mamutoi since the largest number of people gathered in the group understood it, “Jondalar and I are discussing the need we already had for a larger dwelling and the possibility of building a Mamutoi lodge for us all to live in together.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Tholie’s eyes lit up, “I haven’t lived in a lodge since I was a girl. It’s the perfect way to fit everyone in. We can make our own little Camp. I know Shamio and Tarnego would benefit from living in a lodge with your children Ayla, and anyone else’s too.”

“What’s a Mamutoi Lodge?” Madenia asked, needing clarification.

“A dwelling we would build primarily from mammoth,” Latie explained, “They are long and domed, but made by us since Mut so rarely builds caves just the way we need them. We all share the lodge, living together inside it but separated into Hearths with rocks and partitions for privacy based on family units. So Tholie and Markeno would have a hearth where they would live with Shamio and Carduno. Ayla would live with Jondalar and – Ayla what are the names of your children?”

“Jonayla,” Ayla pointed indicatively as she named them, “Thonnolan and Jetamalie.”

“Right. The rest of us would bunk in wherever we fit. At least until we were mated. Generally speaking any of us could also make additional hearths. I might bunk in with Ayla and Jondalar, or I might make a hearth of my own with Darvolo – once we’re mated. The lodge is long and warm, and the children come and go to every hearth as they please. They all grow up together, as close as hearth-siblings.”

“That sounds lovely,” Madenia smiled, “How do we build one?”

“Well they take a long time….” Latie admitted, “Though if everyone pitches in it wouldn’t take too long. But we’d need a lot of materials – mostly mammoth is used in the Mamutoi but that’s because it’s our most easily accessible resource. I don’t know if they even have mammoth here.”

“We do,” Jondalar assured her, “Though we sometimes have to travel further to find them. It’s already too late in the summer to build one to set properly before the winter snows though… or it would be by the time we got enough materials to build one effectively.”

“These things can be sorted out later anyway,” Folara waved her hands dismissively, “Though it is a nice idea. If you do build a Mamutoi lodge, I hope you’d consider letting me move in?”

“Of course you could Folara,” Ayla smiled at the younger woman.

“I’d be happy to share my hearth with you,” Danug piped up, grinning widely and Ayla smiled wider as she realised the big red-haired man was even more like Talut than ever – already teasing people. She also found herself smiling when Folara looked Danug over speculatively as though considering that very idea. Ayla wondered how long it would be before the two began sharing Pleasures. 

She glanced towards Durc when she noticed Jonayla still propped on his hip, quizzing him about the Clan and prattling as she tended to do. Durc looked like he was having trouble understanding everything she said as she only used the signs half the time and he didn’t understand Zelandonii.

“Jonayla where is you tea cup?” Ayla asked the girl.

“It’s with my things, Mama” Jonayla told her, looking over before squirming to be let down by Durc so she could fetch it. Durc looked relieved and just the barest hint of a thankful expression crossed his face.

“I should warn you Jondalar, the Leaders have all heard about Dalanar’s arrival, and the sight of so many faces – especially another man of mixed spirits – are making people curious. You’re likely to be overrun shortly with curious and intimidating people demanding answers,” Folara said though she smiled secretively at Danug’s advance.

“Well they’ll just have to wait. Where are Marthona and Willamar? And where is Joharran? Could you find them and send them in? We need to get everyone settled and then we all need to help Dalanar set up the Lanzadonii camp for the summer,” Jondalar said, “Everything else can wait until we’ve all settled in and until it can all be shared at once, rather than repeating the tale and introductions over and over again.”

“Jondalar?” Joharran appeared suddenly, “What’s going on?”

Ayla and Jondalar shared a look and Ayla knew Jondalar was already getting sick of repeating himself. He explained to Joharran what he’d just told Foloara, asking that Joharran notify the other Leaders and the Council while they helped Dalanar set up.

“Jondalar, the council might not like this,” Joharran said quietly, “You know some of them have enough trouble accepting Echozar… another man of mixed spirits?”

Ayla stiffened at Joharran’s words, wondering how Jondalar would react and suddenly feeling grateful that she hadn’t been translating the words he said.

“Joharran, that man is my son,” she told the leader of the ninth cave of the Zelandonii sternly, “His name is Durc. He has travelled more than a year’s worth of distance just to find me. If the Council or anyone else does not want him here they will find they will have to go through me.”

Durc realised it was him they were discussing and he looked down at his feet for a moment, worried that his fears of being rejected by his mother’s people were to be realised. The Clan didn’t like him because he was mixed spirits and he knew there were many among the Others who didn’t like him for that reason either. He had formed a fast friendship with Echozar upon crossing the glacier and joining with the Lanzadonii – recognising a man who would understand the problems he faced.

“Ayla…” Joharran said, a slight frown crossing his face and Durc got the feeling this man was the Leader of his mother’s Cave. Durc frowned to know that just as she had done when he’d been born, his mother was willing to directly challenge the Leader on his behalf when they didn’t want to accept him. 

“Joharran,” Jondalar interrupted, “You knew Ayla had a son of mixed spirits. He and several of our other friends and companions from my journey have travelled far to meet the Zelandonii people. We will not turn them away.”

“We would not turn any of you away,” Joharran said, nodding his head and Arya could sense the subtle lie in his words. It wasn’t that he would personally, but she knew that as a people, the Zelandonii were unwilling to accept mixed spirits people. They had been trading with the Clan for two years now, but there was still little tolerance for the Clan among the general populous. 

“I will see to it that the Leaders are aware of our visitors. I assume you’ll be doing the introductions later?” Joharran asked Jondalar.

“It will be easier that way. Our immediate family and group of friends will be enough to begin with. Others can introduce themselves at a later date. Now, we need to help Dalanar set up for the summer. Keep everyone else out of our way, could you?” Jondalar asked his brother.

Joharran nodded, leaving to do just that.

Ayla passed out the cups of tea for everyone, pouring Durc a cup and bringing it to him with a squeeze of his hand before taking care of everyone else. She brushed a kiss to Jondalar’s cheek as she brought him some tea. Thonnolan was still sitting on Jondalar’s shoulders, perched up high and watching the proceedings in silence, as was his way. Where Jonayala was outgoing, bubbly and a chatter-box, Thonnolan was shy, often quiet and much more watchful. He could be loud and have fun when the mood struck him, but he was wary of strangers and much more like Ayla than Jondalar. Watching, assessing, gauging a situation before making any input. 

Ayla offered him his cup of tea, which he accepted, signing his gratitude to her one-handed while clutching the cup to his face with the other. Jonayla had taken her cup from her mother, accepting the kiss atop her head with a smile, before shuffling over to sit next to Shamio. Both little girls struck up conversation in Mamutoi quickly – Tarnego leaning in to listen as well. Jonayla lapsed into Zelandonii often, blending the two languages together and beginning to teach Tholie’s children more of the Zelandonii language almost immediately. Jetamalie was too young for tea, but once everyone was taken care of, Ayla pulled the toddler up into her lap for a cuddle. She was too old to be living only on Ayla’s milk, but the girl still suckled occasionally for comfort and Ayla let her.

“We really ought to help Dalanar,” Jondalar worried, glancing towards the man of his hearth where they were setting up across the way.

“We’ll only be in the way for a little while. They know what they’re doing and don’t need our help, Jondalar. Not yet, anyway,” Ayla soothed him, smiling at him fondly.

She looked around the gathered group of people. Folara had left to locate Marthona and Willamar so only the travellers from distant lands remained.

“Would you really move out of your current dwelling to build a lodge with us, Ayla?” Latie asked, sipping her tea and holding Darvolo’s hand.

“Of course we would,” Ayla smiled, “It’s a wonderful idea to fit everyone in together without being spread out. The Zelandonii Caves are much larger groupings than any other people we visited on our way here. It would not be so easy to slot all of you into the Ninth Cave very easily. And you have all come so far because you wished to stay with us. With so many people from so many different cultures, living together will be the perfect way to combine it all together and enjoy aspects of each.”

“You are worried the Zelandonii will not be accepting of them?” Jondalar asked quietly in his native tongue.

“The Zelandonii are not so open to change, Jondalar,” Ayla sighed, “There is much about the Mamutoi way of life that would unsettle them. More about the Sharamudoi that would confuse them. I do not wish to pack up everything and move far away – somewhere close by to the Ninth Cave, within walking distance would be an ideal place for a lodge. Where we can all be who we are – all cultures together – without the constant pressure of the Zelandonii people to fit in. Our friends did not travel so far to become Zelandonii, Jondalar. They came to be with us, as we were with them. I would not like to see some of the terrible tricks your people played on me, turned on our friends.”

Jondalar looked stricken for a moment and everyone else looked lost since the conversation they held was much too fast and in a language they didn’t know well.

“Is everything alright, Ayla?” Tholie asked, sensing the slight tension between the couple.

“Yes, Tholie,” Ayla smiled, “Sorry. We are being rude again. Jondalar and I are discussing the idea of where best to put the lodge. While the Zelandonii are lovely people, they are set in their ways and might not take easily to the different ways each of you do things. I would like for all of us to enjoy each other’s culture – to be able to practice and express it together – without concern of how the Zelandonii people might react.”

The gathered group looked concerned and slightly intrigued and Ayla noticed that Jondalar looked slightly ashamed of the habits of his people.

“The Zelandonii are not bad people,” he spoke up, “But they can be… insensitive to the ways and ideas of others. It has taken many long years of fighting with the zelandonia and the Leaders Council to commence trading missions with people of the Clan and to change their ways of thinking. Ayla is – of course – a driving force for all the change they have endured already, but they aren’t always open to new ideas straight away.”

Markeno nodded in understanding.

“They might not understand the concept of cross-tying as the Sharamudoi do. Or the abrupt manner of the Mamutoi,” he summarised.

“Yes,” Ayla nodded, “And though you have come to stay, you do not need to become like the Zelandonii to do so. Not unless that is what you wish. When I arrived they did not always approve of the way I talked, the way I dressed or the way I conducted myself. But they have learned to deal with it.”

Tholie, Latie and Madenia all smiled widely at her words, while Danug looked pleased by her fire. Durc looked on, saying little but understanding loosely that it would not just be him who might have trouble being accepted. It pleased him a little to know his mother was not wholly accepted even by her people and that she was defiant of the notion that she ought to be. 

Uba had told him many stories before his journey to find his mother of the type of woman his mother had been. Durc knew well the stories of how defiant and wilful Ayla had been while Brun was leader. Uba had told him of the terrible things Ayla had done to spite Broud – a hateful man whom Durc had never liked. To know that all these years later his mother was still wilful and defiant pleased him immensely. Not because he wanted her to be in trouble, but because it fit with the way he had imagined her. He had limited memories of her before she had left the Clan. 

“You do love to cause an uproar, don’t you Ayla?” Jondalar smiled at Ayla widely, pleased despite her defiance, knowing that while it sometimes worried him, his mate was a powerful force to be reckoned with when she set her mind on something. Especially something important.

“The Zelandonii need another good stir,” Ayla replied, signing the words and speaking Mamutoi, “Too long left untouched and they develop sediment and begin to stagnate. And people should never be allowed to stagnate. They must grow. They must change. They must learn new and different ways of doing things.”

“So we’re building a lodge then?” Danug asked, “Will you be headman, Jondalar?”

“I think having a headman in a lodge for us would be unnecessary,” Ayla told him, “Jondalar and I know a good place not far from our Cave where we could build the lodge – and we could still fall under the Leadership of the Ninth Cave. Many of our friends live there, and the leader there is Joharran – Jondalar’s brother. Instead of needing a headman to govern us the way individual lodges do with the Mammoth Hunters, we could defer to Joharran as Cave Leader as we would have little call for needing disputes settled and those other Headman and Headwoman duties.”

“But… who would be in charge?” Latie asked, frowning in confusion.

“No one,” Ayla smiled brightly, “No one needs to be in charge. We will all live together and go about our lives.”

“But who will delegate tasks and settle things and plan things?” Latie pressed, “Who will lead the hunt? Everyone needs a leader…”

“I think, Latie, that you are not yet used to the Zelandonii way of life. The Lion Camp had how many members? A little over twenty?” Jondalar asked.

Latie nodded.

“The Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii has ten times that many people living there. Joharran is leader. We all live in separate dwellings alongside each other, but still slightly apart. When important meetings are held, those in charge of different things gather. The rest simply pitch in when it’s required. We would all be representatives from our own Hearth in a lodge,” Jondalar told her, smiling widely at her as everyone began to nod slowly.

“Everyone’s input is important. When something needed to be done we would all pitch in,” Tholie agreed, “Shall we have a name?”

“The Lion Camp, of course,” Ayla smiled slowly, “The Lion Camp of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

It was late evening by the time everyone at the Landzadonii camp got set up and settled for the Summer Meeting. Many people – most of the Leaders on the Council especially – had been curious about the visitors. Dalanar and Jerika had left for a brief time to greet the leaders of the hosting Cave for the Summer Meeting before Dalanar had run some interference with the Leaders Council.

Ayla had spent the entire afternoon running after her children and instructing their guests about things. Everyone had insisted, once they were settled, upon the chance to bathe off the travel grime from their long journey and Ayla had led their friends along with Jondalar and their children up the river a little to gain some privacy.

"Mama?" Durc called quietly, a hint of concern in his voice suddenly as they were all enjoying the time in private away from the number of people who had been pestering them since their arrival.

Ayla looked towards Durc to find that Wolf had appeared – having been absent most of the day and he was most curious about the man of mixed spirits. Ayla felt a prickle of unease across the back of her neck as she recalled that Durc's totem was the Grey Wolf.

"WOLF!" Jonayla shouted excitedly, spotting her canine playmate of many years and dashing towards him. Wolf – for the first time in a long time without Ayla's express instruction – ignored Jonayla's call and approach.

Ayla began rapidly signing for Durc, explaining that Wolf was their beloved friend and that he would not hurt Durc unless provoked or unless Ayla, Jondalar or their children were threatened. Durc nodded his head in understanding before fearlessly reaching his hand out towards the enormous canine to be sniffed. She spotted the surprise on both the faces of man and animal at the effect when Wolf sniffed Durc's hand carefully.

She realised with a jolt why it was that Wolf had ignored Jonayla and why he was so intent on Durc. As a puppy, Ayla had made a nest for Wolf that included the carry-hide she had used to carry Durc when he'd been a baby. The scent of Durc would be familiar to the wolf. Walking swiftly across the clearing as everyone fell silent to watch the exchange between man and beast, Ayla witnessed the sight that she was sure she would never forget.

After licking for a moment at Durc's fingers, Wolf jumped up at Durc, placing his large paws on Durc's robust shoulders and doing to Durc what he so often did to Ayla. Leaning in carefully, Wolf took Durc's jaw and throat in his muzzle and bit lightly – not breaking the skin – before licking Durc's neck and letting go. Whether by instinct or some other reason, Durc returned the gesture of affection as Ayla had always done – as even Jondalar very rarely did.

"Mama, look," Jonayla whispered, turning to Ayla in wonder, "It's like Wolf recognises Durc is his brother as much as he is my brother."

"That's because he does, Jonayla," Ayla told her daughter softly.

The sound of Ayla's voice drew Wolf's attention and he yipped in greeting as he turned to her before bounding over to her and going up on his hind paws to return the affectionate and deferential display to the leader of his pack and his human surrogate mother. Ayla smiled as she grabbed Wolf's ruff and shook it, biting his affectionately. Beyond the canine, Ayla could tell that Durc was unnerved by what he had just witnessed and partaken in. That the Spirit World had just brushed over her son.

"He is my totem," Durc signed to her.

Ayla nodded, "He is also my wild wolf son. I rescued him as a puppy after killing his mother during the winter. She had whelped out of season. He recognised your scent because I swaddled him as a pup with the carry-blanket I used to carry you when you were still a baby."

Durc's brow furrowed in confusion and Ayla could tell he was confused about what she had still been doing with his carry blanket so many years after he'd been in need of carrying. After she'd been banished and cursed with death. Ayla's expression grew grave and serious as she conducted the conversation with her firstborn son entirely in the silent sign language of the Clan.

"I was banished. Cursed with Death. But I never let you go, Durc," she told him, "Through the long years I lived alone before I found my mate, Jondalar, I had no people. I had no one else. I turned to the only company I could as a grieving mother desperate for company and for the feel of being needed as you had needed me. I raised Whinney from a foal after killing her mother for meat and materials. I also raised a Cave Lion Cub that I called Baby. Racer was born just after I found Jondalar. It was four long years I lived alone with no people. With only my animal children for company. And I cried for you often. My heart ached with your loss and only your carry-blanket brought me comfort."

Durc blinked at her and while to everyone else he looked stoic and even a little unfeeling in the face of the tears blurring his mother's vision, Ayla knew better. She could see the tension across his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw to know that even when they had been forced apart, his mother has missed him. That she had still loved him, though she couldn't be with him.

"How did you survive, Mama?" Durc wanted to know, signing in return.

Ayla smiled gently.

"Did Uba tell you tales of my behaviour before I was cursed?" she asked in return.

Durc nodded.

"To learn how to use the sling – to learn to be The Woman Who Hunts – I spent many long years listening to and learning from the men of Brun's clan in secret. When I was banished I was able to hunt small game with my sling in order to feed myself. I travelled for many days before I found my valley where I lived after that until I found Jondalar. Eventually, when I decided to settle there, I realised I would need materials I could only get from hunting prey too large for my sling. And so I recalled all I had listened to and learned. It took much practice and several failed attempts, but I taught myself to hunt large game."

Durc looked puzzled and Ayla realised that wasn't what he had meant. He had spent a year, possibly longer, travelling with her companions from the journey with Jondalar. He might've known those types of things already. Ayla realised with a jolt that Durc meant to inquire how she had survived being alone for all that time. How she hadn't wasted away as so many cursed with death tended to do.

"I promised my mother, Iza, that I would go to the Others and find my mate," Ayla shrugged, "I vowed I would not let Broud defeat me and condemn me to death. He took everything from me. He took my Clan. He took my home. He took my sister, Uba… He even took you, my son. But I could not let him defeat me. Brun would not have allowed it. When I was banished, Brun promised me he would protect you and teach you. That you would be safe, even while Broud was leader. I could not let Iza and Creb down. I could not let you down."

Durc looked away for a moment, clearly unsure of how to express his feelings on the matter.

"Why didn't you take me with you, Mama?" he signed carefully, glancing at her furtively and Ayla's eyes overflowed with the grief as though it were as fresh as the day she'd been driven from the Clan and left him behind, restrained by Uba.

"I could not take you with me, Durc," Ayla signalled, "I was cursed with Death. I could not have survived so well when it was just the two of us. The men of the clan would have speared me had I tried to snatch you away and take you with me."

"Was it… because I am of mixed spirits?" Durc signed carefully.

"You are of mixed spirits, Durc, but not in the way you think," Ayla signalled, going to him and taking his hands for a moment, squeezing them reassuringly and letting him see the open honesty and love she bore for him in her heart and upon her face.

"The Others believe that the Great Mother creates life inside a woman and chooses the spirit of a man to be mixed with the woman's to create that life. The Clan believes it is the totems that battle and that a man's totem overpowers a woman's and that is why she becomes pregnant," Ayla explained to him, "I believe that is only half right. I believe that when a man and a woman share Pleasures, when they mate, the essence of the man is mixed with that of the woman inside the place where babies grow. I believe that the man who shares Pleasures with or mates with a woman in that place – when he leaves his essence behind – is the man the Spirits or the Great Mother choose to mix with the spirit of the woman."

Durc looked mildly confused and rather startled by her assertions.

"For example, Jondalar is my mate. I only share Pleasures with him. His is the essence the Spirits used to make me pregnant with Jonayla, Thonnolan and Jetamalie. That is why they have his blue eyes. Because Jondalar is a man of the Others and I am a woman of the Others, they look like Others," Ayla explained to him, "But when I lived with the Clan the only man I mated with was Broud. That means, based on my belief, that when he mated with me and left his essence behind, it was Broud's essence that the Spirits mingled with mine to make me pregnant with you. But because I am of the Others and Broud was a man of the Clan, when our essences, our spirits, mixed together we made you. A man of mixed spirits."

"The Clan think I am an abomination," Durc signed carefully.

"You are not an abomination Durc!" Ayla signed fiercely, "You are my son and I love you. I did not leave you behind because you are of mixed spirits. I left you behind because I believed I might die and I did not wish for that to also be your fate. I have ached, every day, in my heart with missing you and wishing I could see you again."

Durc's bottom lip trembled then and Ayla knew that were he able to cry as she did, he would do so. When it trembled again and he had to bring his hand up to cover the quivering show of emotion, Ayla stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his barrel chest tightly and burying her face against his chest.

Everyone else in the clearing had been looking on, murmuring to each other. Jondalar knew many of them had forgotten how powerful and how mesmerizing the full language of the Clan could be. Watching Ayla communicate silently with Durc had stirred something in his heart. Jondalar realised as he watched the young man wrap his arms around his mother and squeeze her tightly – much more tightly, he imagined, than even Jondalar himself had ever held the woman, even at his most fearful for her safety – that he loved the young man.

He didn't know him. He didn't know what his life had been like or what he had experienced. He didn't know how he had grown up once Ayla had been forced to leave him with the Clan, but the sight of mother and son reunited, of them sharing such a personal discussion that even Jondalar did not fully understand – though he understood most of it – made Jondalar realise that he had no choice nor inclination to do anything other than love his mate's son. Jondalar was not his father – not in the sense that he was father to Jonayla, Thonnolan and Jetamalie – nor in the sense that he had raised the boy. But as he watched the young man hold Jondalar's mate so tightly, Jondalar loved him as any father loved a son.

"Are they alright?" Danug asked, coming up beside Jondalar and looking concerned.

Jondalar glanced sideways at the red-haired young man.

"She hasn't seen him in more than ten years," Jondalar said quietly to Danug, "It has been a long and emotional journey for Ayla. Every year around the time Durc was born Ayla sits quietly in the sunshine and thinks of him. Sometimes at night she cries herself to sleep with how much she still misses him. She has just explained to him that she did no leave him by choice and that she has missed him every day since then. That she left him behind to protect him and not because his is of mixed spirits, as I think he feared."

Danug nodded his head.

"It has been a long and emotional journey for Durc too, since she left him," Danug told him softly in return, "I do not know the whole story. Men of the Clan, it seems, do not share deep feelings well. But his story is no less tragic than Ayla's since they were parted."

Jondalar looked at the young man at his side seriously then, frowning slightly in wonder. Danug had been growing into a fine young man before Jondalar and Ayla had left the Mamutoi. It seemed since then that age, maturity and a long journey had turned him not only into that fine man, but also into one as protective and bear-like at Talut. Jondalar could tell at a glance that Danug genuinely cared for Durc's wellbeing and happiness. That he would fight to the death to defend the other man if it came to it.

"Tell me the truth, Jondalar," Danug said then, "How will your people react to Durc? Will it be worse than it was the Summer Meeting when everyone was so against the burial ceremony for Rydag?"

Jondalar sighed heavily.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, "There was some of the same dissent among our people when my sister, Joplaya, mated with Echozar. As a man of mixed spirits he was not well received among my people. In the years since then, however, everyone has had a chance to get used to the idea of mixed spirit people but he still isn't very well liked but by those who know him. The trading Willamar does with the Clan has improved things further and many among the Zelandonii recognise the Clan to be a different kind of people and recognise that mixed spirit people are not abominations. But as there was with the Mamutoi there are still an unpleasant few who will be vocal and against Durc's presence here, as they still are against Echozar and against trading with the Clan."

"That man who came by earlier, the one you and Ayla spoke to, he was your brother, Joharran?" Danug asked.

"Yes," Jondalar said, "He is the leader of the Ninth Cave. My mother, Marthona was leader before him. And my father, Dalanar is leader of the Lanzadonii. The Zelandonia are also still led by a close friend of ours, the First. Among them, combined with Ayla and I, we hold a great deal of sway with the other members. Generally people also adore Ayla. You have seen her in action. You know what a force she is when she sets her mind to something."

"He will not be turned away?" Danug asked worriedly, "Durc is strong, but I do not believe he would survive being turned away by his mother's people."

Jondalar nodded gravely.

"When it really boils down to it, Danug, his mother's people are those of us here in this clearing and many among the Landzadonii and the Ninth Cave. They are not any one people. As she was made a part of the Clan who took her in as a girl, and as she was taken in and adopted by the Mamutoi, everywhere she goes, people are willing to accept Ayla. No matter how different and how unusual or unorthodox her ideas might be. She will not turn Durc away. And if it goes so far that the Zelandonii people refuse to accept Durc, she will leave."

"And you, my friend?" Danug asked, looking at Jondalar.

"I brought her home with me from my journey because I missed my family and wanted to share all I had learned with my people. Because I needed to tell my mother what had become of my brother, Thonnolan. But if Ayla were to come to me today and say that she would prefer to trek all the way back to the Mamutoi, I would do it. I would try to talk her out of it. But if she could not be swayed, I would go with her. I will follow that woman anywhere. If she chooses to leave my people to be with Durc, I will follow. One thing I learned upon my journey, my friend, is that while the Zelandonii are the people I was born to and many whom I care for are among them, the real 'people' a man belongs to are his mate, his children and his family."

"His children?" Danug asked, "You mean the children of your hearth? Do you have another word for that in Zelanondii?"

Jondalar smiled, "Ah Danug, it has been too long since we saw each other. Ayla has convinced me that the way a woman becomes pregnant is not simply by the mingling of spirits done by Mut. She believes that when a man and woman share Pleasures; when a man leaves his essence inside a woman, the mother chooses to mingle their spirits that way."

"But not every woman becomes pregnant every time I share Pleasures," Danug frowning in confusion.

"Mut still plays a role," Jondalar nodded, "But have you ever noticed that it is only a woman with whom you have shared Pleasures that you might see have a baby believed to be born of your essence?"

"Like the way those three have your eyes?" Danug asked, nodding at Jondalar's children.

Jondalar nodded, "A woman I have not pleasured would not – could not - bear a child of my spirit. Ayla believes it is the Pleasures, the leaving of essence, that encourages Mut to mix the spirits of the two who have shared Pleasures."

"It is true that those who share pleasures more often are more frequently blessed," Danug nodded, "What word did you used to describe that? The idea of you being the man of their hearth and them being of your spirit?"

"It is a word Ayla invented," Jondalar told him, "She calls me her children's father."

"Father," Danug rolled the word around in his mouth, looking thoughtful, "But Jonayala called you something else."

"Daddy," Jondalar smiled, "I think Ayla invented that one too. Only my children refer to me as 'Daddy'. It is a shortened title. Much the way one might shorten the word Mother to be different things. Ayla's children all call her 'Mama'."

"Even Durc," Danug nodded, "For a long time I had no idea what it meant. He simply said there was a woman called Ayla who was his mother and he referred to her when he would talk of her as Mama."

"Ayla explained it to me when she was teaching Jonayla to talk. When Durc was born, she didn't know if he would be able to speak as we do. Many of the Clan are unable to make more than grunting sounds, as Rydag did. They do not have the full vocal range we of the Others do," Jondalar told him, "She told me that when Durc was a baby she would play word games with him, finding out how much vocal range he had. She told me his favourite was to say 'ma'. Over and over again. She said that when she lost her milk while she was raising him, Durc was fed by all the women of her Clan who had milk. He also used the sign for 'mother' to address most of them. Ayla told me his distinguishing way of addressing her as being special to him as the woman who birthed him was to call her 'Mama' because of the game they played. She wanted to recreate it with her other children."

Danug smiled slowly at that explanation, nodding his head carefully and watching as across the clearly Durc and Ayla finally released each other, both appearing rather emotional.

"I should go and see if she is alright," Jondalar told the younger man, clapping him on the shoulder, "And I'm looking forward to hearing about your journey, Danug. It's very good to see you again."

"I'm just pleased we finally found you and that we made it all the way here," Danug said, "It's a relief to see you again. You and Ayla both. And together."

Jondalar smiled widely at him before he strode across the clearing. He kept a weather eye upon his children, noting that Thonnolan and Jonayla were still swimming with Shamio and Tarnego. Tholie was bouncing Jetamalie on her knee as she chatted with Latie and Madenia.

"Ayla?" Jondalar asked his mate quietly.

"Yes Jondalar?" Ayla said, turning a watery smile on her mate.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her softly, brushing his hand over her hair and down her tear-streaked cheek.

"I have him back, Jondalar," Ayala whispered to him, "I finally have my son back."

She pressed her face into his chest, hiding her emotional outpour over her joy at being reunited with her son and her sorrow to have been parted from him so long. Jondalar smiled when even though she pressed into his chest, she didn't let go of Durc's hand.


End file.
